


Still rollin'

by Moonshine_Givens



Category: Justified, Justified RPF
Genre: Character Bleed, M/M, On Set, watch out for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshine_Givens/pseuds/Moonshine_Givens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is nothing new: Raylan and Boyd are going against each other yet again. Only, this time, Timothy can't get to the end of the scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still rollin'

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the wonderful, lovely Wargasms. She was amazing and correct all the mistakes on this one. Thank you for being a great beta and a great friend. Love u!

“Still rollin’!”

That may be what Timothy Olyphant hears, but Raylan Givens only heard the footsteps of Boyd Crowder coming closer. Here they were again, doing this thing one more time; facing off, knowing the only way either of them will ever get what they want – what they need – is by destroying the other.

Raylan felt the anger boiling inside him, barely contained. Boyd was the one who kept putting them in this position. Raylan tried to reign it in, to look cool and at ease, but he knew Boyd could see past the pretense, past the mask. The man didn’t take his eyes off Raylan.

“So, that’s it, Boyd? That’s how you gonna play it?” Raylan asked, voice no louder than a whisper.

“I do believe so, Raylan. I’m afraid this will be the last time we’ll meet in a friendly manner. This is where we part our ways.”

There was no happiness in Boyd’s smile, there were only teeth and danger, like a shark or a lion, but Raylan wasn’t afraid. Raylan may have been sad, and he had certainly been angry before, but Raylan had never been afraid. Raylan lowered his eyes, a tight smile on his lips. There was nothing more he could say, this was the end, no way of escaping the web they were tangled in.

“I’ll be on my way, then.”

Raylan raised his eyes one more time, a final look before they would have to exchange bullets and, most likely, kill each other. The moment lasted a second – a perfect, cinematic second, a small voice said in his head – and Raylan knew that this was it, he had to turn and walk away now, just needed to move. He could envision it; how Raylan should turn, should take the last few steps that would put him on dirt road, his feet carrying him away from Boyd. Then the camera would follow Tim before focusing back on Walton’s face…

“Fuck!” The actors curse in unison.

The moment is gone, the second went on way too long and the shot is ruined. Walton has no reason to be cursing, really, he was right on cue the whole time, talking in that drawl that sounds almost like he’s singing. Tim is the only one to blame here, and fuck if that isn’t annoying – he would be more than happy to blame Walton.

Someone yells that they are “still rolling”, but Tim needs a few seconds to take a deep breath.

They’re out on a dusty road in Green Valley, sun high in the sky, and the day is getting uncomfortably hot. Tim is just glad he’s not a sweaty guy or he would have had to change shirts every five minutes, and make everyone on set crazy over it. He has no idea how Walton can take wearing that damn vest and a long sleeve shirt with the top button closed, in black no less. Actually, Tim has some idea. Walton seems to think cursing will make the heat go away. He’s not sweating all over the place either, so Tim just stands back and lets the man do his thing.

His thing being, mostly, to jump around in the same place, cursing and clapping his hands. This is how Walton gets into Boyd’s vibe: how he concentrates the energy it takes to become such an intense man, such an extreme character. Timothy will never understand: he gets into Raylan by standing aside a bit, lowering his voice and making economic gestures, trying to remember the lines and just not fuck everything up too much. But he thinks he may have to start doing the little burst of movements Walton uses, since he’s pretty much been fucking everything up the whole morning.

It’s just… He doesn’t get this scene. Well, he does, of course! Of course, he understands the writers need to take both Raylan and Boyd off of this “kind-of-friends-but-not-really” comfort zone and throw them right back into “sworn-enemies” territory they first began with way back in the pilot. He understands that choice and he kind of agrees with it. He also understands how everything they did so far could lead them to this moment; it’s the perfect climax to this season arc, actually. He just doesn’t understand why they would have this particular scene. Boyd and Raylan both already know that this is it, no turning back; they have already made their choices. Raylan doesn’t try to convince Boyd to change his mind, and neither does Boyd. The whole thing seems a bit useless, actually, the kind of scene you shoot to make people go “Wow”, but it doesn’t really have meaning to the character. Actually, in the end, it seems like Raylan has come all the way, the whole three hour drive from Lexington to Harlan, just to say goodbye.

And… he doesn’t. Not really. It’s just… it’s weird.

“Timothy, let me ask you somethin’.” Walton’s coming his way, and honestly, Tim loves the man half the time, but right now he wants to escape, wants to run, wants to turn around and walk the steps he couldn’t make Raylan walk: he has the feeling he’s going to hate this talk. It doesn’t help in the slightest that Walton is still using his Boyd voice, calling Tim “Timothy” and whispering like they aren’t using microphones.

“Yeah?”

“What is your problem with this scene?”

“Where is this coming from? I don’t have a problem with it.” He answers too fast, and for once can’t shake Boy-- Walton, can’t shake Walton off with a joke. “Look, it’s nothing, alright. I’ll get it right in the next try.”

Walton backs off and Tim is truly grateful. They go to their marks, and Timothy can feel the whole set impatient with it – it’s the eighth take, this scene is not overly complicated and everyone is too hot. He’s pretty sure the crew thinks he’s an asshole, and he can’t really say they are wrong.

*

“I do believe so, Raylan. This may be the last time we’ll meet in a friendly manner. This road, right here, is where we part our ways.”

Boyd didn’t smile this time, and Raylan was not sure why he expected him to. He wanted to do something, say something, but he was too angry, burning up with the need to… they were at war because they were both stupid, he wanted to blame it all on Boyd but he couldn’t really, and one single, unwanted memory came from a dark time – Boyd holding his hand, saving his life, both of them running in the dark…

The intensity of Boyd’s eyes was too much, and Raylan had the sudden certainty that the other man was also remembering, reliving, those seconds where they were each other’s only hope. Seconds… maybe years. Raylan lowered his eyes, defeated.

“Okay.” It was barely a whisper, all the rage and the despair he couldn’t scream at Boyd. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

He raised his eyes once again, meeting Boyd’s. He wanted to whisper he’s sorry again, like the time he shot Boyd in Ava’s dining room; he wanted to undo this whole thing and go back to that road; he wanted Boyd to undo everything, he wanted to reach out and…

 

“Oh, goddamn motherfucker. Sorry, I have to cough.” Walton hacks a bit, hollering to the cameraman, “You keep that fuckin’ thing on!” Another cough. “You just keep that fuckin’ thing on, we’re not done yet.”

Walton keeps coughing and, as good an actor as the man is, Tim can see through his bullshit. He understands Walton did it for him. Half the crew is already muttering curses and kicking at the ground in frustration. Walton could sense Tim was going to make the same mistake as last time and had attempted to take the blame. The moment can’t stretch too long; really, it should be half a beat and then he has to walk, five careful steps, over onto the road. That’s it. That’s all it takes.

Honestly, Tim once was upside down for this character, this scene should be a fucking walk in the park.

“Maybe you should just do it.”

“Do what,” he replies, not really a question because Tim doesn’t really want to know.

“Fuck me if I know! You’re the one overthinking the scene, there’s clearly something you wanna do, but you’re holding yourself back. Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Dude, are you giving me permission to fuck this thing up even worse that I have so far?”

“Honestly, Tim, I have no idea if you can fuck it up more. It’s pretty fucked up as it is since, you know, we can’t get to the end of this thing. Now man up and unfuck your shit, son, otherwise I’ll just let Sarah from make-up strangle you next time she has to fix your lipstick.”

“Fuck you,” but Timothy doesn’t sound half as threatening as he had been going for.

*

“So that’s it, Boyd?” Raylan’s voice broke all of the sudden. Because this couldn’t be the end of their story. “That’s how you gonna play it?”

For a heartbeat, Raylan thought that was all he had to say, but no, there was more. Words Raylan had been swallowing for longer than he could remember and that were poisoning his insides. Words that he can’t help but spew on this dirty road.

“Boyd, I know you. I know you better than anyone else. I know exactly who you are, what you’re capable of. You really gonna do this to me? Make me shoot you where you stand? You gonna turn me into what, your killer?” he stopped, hands shaking as he took a step closer. “Do you know what it took me the last time, to put that bullet through your chest? How painful it was, to put down the boy that once saved my life, the kid that held my hand? I don’t wanna do this again, Boyd. I-….” Raylan paused, looking down, lost in memories, and he couldn’t even be sure the next words were audible, lips barely moving as he whispered, “Not sure that I can.”

When Raylan managed to look up, he saw a different Boyd than he’d expected. Boyd looked just as broken down now, just as desperate as Raylan felt, and that was good. That was so much better than the badass cowboy bravado they had put on so far, pretending they didn’t care, pretending this wasn’t going destroy them both, whatever the outcome.

“I don’t see any other way, Raylan.” Boyd’s words filled Raylan with renewed anguish. Boyd paused before breathing out, “How can we go back now? There’s no changing the past, as much as we want it. I’m afraid this will be the last time we’ll be meeting in a friendly manner. This… Raylan, I’m so sorry… this is where we part our ways.”

There were tears welling in Boyd’s eyes, and that didn’t make it better, didn’t make it any easier, it just made the moment more miserable and torturous. Raylan still had no idea why he came all the way out here… maybe he wanted… one last thing.

“I’ll be on my way, then.” Raylan said, hoping Boyd would stop him, hoping Boyd would say anything else. Maybe even ask Raylan to stay.

Boyd stayed silent, looking young and brokenhearted.

Raylan started walking, but it was only when he was half way there that he realized that his feet were not taking him away from Boyd, rather they were taking him closer. It’s done now, it’s all fucked to hell, so Raylan just kept moving until he was touching Boyd, hands gripping that pompous vest, their foreheads touching, skin against hot skin.

“Just one last time, Boyd.” Raylan said as he closed the space between then, not waiting for an answer, just leaned in the last millimeter and kissed the shorter man.

It wasn’t a kiss, it was a prelude to a bullet; their unhappy ending. Neither would ever recover from that, from killing the love of their lives, no matter who might survive. At least Raylan would have this, the bittersweet certainty that Boyd was also broken by it, that he mattered to Boyd as well.

When they broke apart, there were tears wetting both their cheeks. They looked into each other’s eyes for a whole second – a perfect, cinematic second – and the realization there was nothing else to be said already felt like dying, like killing. Raylan turned his back, fresh tears still falling freely, and walked away. Five slow steps out of the scene.

 

The scene.

The fucking scene. Because Tim isn’t Raylan fucking Givens and now the whole crew is staring at him, mouths open, eyes round, staring in silence and stillness, trying to understand exactly what just happened.

Timothy swallows. If he laughs maybe everyone will laugh as well. He doesn’t turn around. He’s pretty sure Walton is not laughing.

Maybe he could storm out to his trailer like a diva. Maybe he could yell “AD-LIB!” and hope everything would be forgotten. Maybe he could ask for rehab.

In the loaded silence that has settled over the crowded location, only one voice is heard, saying in a demanding tone:

“Still rollin’!”

**Author's Note:**

> The title - and the lines that follow it - are from the Justified Season 3 Gag Reel: apparently their crew says "still rollin'!" a lot. You can watch it here:  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_cH275aKf0
> 
> Do you wanna reach me? Feel free to yell at me in ohthati.tumblr.com  
> Do you ship Boyd x Raylan? Walt x Tim? Come check us out at wedugcoal.tumblr.com  
> Thank you so much for reading it!


End file.
